Sister-sons
by cecania13
Summary: Thorin recalls memories of his sister-sons and has to face the consequences of bringing his only living family with him on the quest to reclaim Erebor. Will be spoilers if you haven't read the end of The Hobbit.


_ He could remember the day each of his sister-sons had been born. Fíli had come into the world on a bright, summer's day. The labour had beset Dís suddenly, so suddenly that they had barely had enough time to move her from the forge where Thorin had been working to their home. The birds had been singing and the village had been bustling with life, but Thorin hadn't cared about any of it. He had only been worried for his sister. She was the only family he had left and the noises she had made as the birth had progressed had made it sound like he was going to lose her to the babe._

_ It hadn't come to be. Instead, she had survived and given the line of Durin another heir. Fíli, son of Dís, had been born at the height of the day and his bright hair and eyes had reflected that very day. Thorin had held his sister-son while Dís had slumbered to regain her strength and beheld the perfection that the tiny babe was. He had had a thick head of hair like all dwarven babes, but unlike most of Durin's heirs, he had had the golden yellow hair of his father. For hours, Thorin had held Fíli, simply studying the small babe who had the same sapphire eyes as he did. And Fíli had studied him back, his young gaze darting over Thorin's face._

_ Kíli, on the other hand, had been born in the dead of night, during one of the harshest storms that had struck their village in the Blue Mountains. His sister had gone into labour during the early morning, as she had been setting the plates for breakfast on the table. Fíli had run screaming into Thorin's room, babbling about how the baby was killing his mother. Thorin hadn't wasted any time, scooping up the boy and searching out his sister. Thankfully, Oín had arrived before the storm had set in, but it had been up to Thorin to occupy Fíli. The boy's father had been working a night patrol and hadn't returned from the mountains before the storm had set in. Keeping the small dwarf occupied was usually not a problem, but when he could constantly hear the sounds of his mother in pain Fíli had been a handful even Thorin had had a problem with._

_ This time they had nearly lost both Dís and her new son. Only the skills and expertise of Oín had saved them._

"Uncle Thorin, why can't we see Mummy?"

Looking down at Fíli as the boy clung to his knee, Thorin set aside the small carving he had been working on and ran his hand over the boy's hair. It was still growing in thick and would soon be long enough to braid. "She's weak right now, Fíli," he tried to explain to the small boy who wanted nothing more than his mother's arms to be wrapped around him. "We will see her soon enough."

Fíli shifted on his feet, his nervousness bleeding through his entire countenance. He climbed into Thorin's lap without hesitation when his uncle patted his thigh. "When?" he asked, his small face scared.

"Soon," Thorin promised, never doubting that both his sister and her new babe would be fine. He would not allow fear or doubt to enter his mind. He would not lose the last of his family to something such as this.

Fíli cuddled good and close to his uncle, pressing his ear to his chest to listen to Thorin's heartbeat. It was a favourite pastime of the boy's. Many nights Fíli had snuck into Thorin's room to lie on his chest, listening to the strong beat of his uncle's heart to soothe him to sleep.

Stroking the boy's hair again, Thorin was unsure of what else he could do to calm the boy. He had tried to get him to sleep since it was deep in the night, but his mother's screams had kept him awake and frightened. He had already spent countless hours consoling and entertaining the boy and was at a loss of what else to do. His father had still not returned from his patrol because of the storm and that wasn't sitting well with either Thorin or Fíli. Dís had already cried out for her husband more than once and it had made her son beg for his father as well.

Hearing Fíli sniff softly, he knew that the lad was crying and trying to hide it from his uncle. Leaning back in his chair, Thorin murmured, "Be strong, Fíli. We are the sons of Durin and we must always be strong."

He nodded against Thorin's chest, burying his face in his tunic.

"It will be alright," he said softly. "It will be alright."

He lost track of the time as they waited for some news on his sister and babe. He knew he was still awake when the door to Dís' chamber was opened and Oín came out. Thorin didn't ask, stayed quiet as the small child who had finally fallen asleep on his uncle. He couldn't read Oín's face, but he prayed to Mahal that they were both well.

Oín paused as he saw the pair of them, sitting in a chair before the hearth that had been turned to face the doorway. "They are both alive," he said quietly. "She is very weak. The babe is strong, but birthing him has drained her."

Thorin nodded, focusing only on the fact that they were both alive before he realised that Dís had given their line another son. "Has she named him?" he asked quietly.

"Aye, she did and she is asking for you. I will remain here until I am sure that I am no longer needed," Oín said, walking toward the kitchen. "Go to her and take the lad with you. I'm too old to deal with him."

A slight smile crossed his lips and he nodded again. Once the other dwarf was out of the room, he gently shook Fíli awake. He was loathe to do it, but the boy would want to meet his brother and see his mother.

Blue eyes blinked groggily up at him. "Uncle?" he mumbled.

"Your brother is finally here, Fíli," he told him.

It took a long moment for that news to sink into his sleepy mind, but Thorin saw the exact moment that it did. His eyes widened, his little face filling with wonder and joy. "Brother? I has a brother?"

Thorin smiled at the excitement in his voice. He could recall that same excitement when he had been told of the births of his younger brother and sister. He also remembered how anxious he had been to see them.

He wasted no time in rising from the chair, keeping the now squirming bundle of dwarf child in his arms as he headed for Dís' chamber. He knocked on the door and waited for the muffled answer to enter. The room was blazing hot, the fire roaring in its hearth, but his sister was buried under blankets and surrounded by pillows. "Dís," he said softly, approaching her.

Tired eyes met his and she smiled weakly at him. "Brother," she murmured, reaching out with one hand to him.

Thankfully, Fíli had calmed in his arms enough that he could take her hand. Sitting on the edge of her bed, his gaze was drawn to the swaddled bundle in her arms. "How fare you, sister?"

"I have been better," she sighed, her own gaze moving down to her new son. "But it is all worth it in the end."

Fíli was starting to wiggle again and it was all Thorin could do to keep the lad from jumping on his mother. "Mummy, can I see? Can I?"

The smile Dís turned on her eldest was loving and gentle. "You must be calm, Fíli," she told him, shifting just slightly so they could both see the head of dark hair covering the latest addition to their family. "Kíli is still little and he's very precious."

Fíli nodded quickly and squirmed in Thorin's arms. "Yes, Mummy."

Thorin moved the boy so he was settled firmly in his uncle's lap. He didn't let him go though, not trusting the boy to stay where he was supposed to be. Dís shifted again and now they could both see this Kíli. His dark eyes were already roving the room before they settled on his kin. Fíli's breath caught for a moment as he made eye contact with his brother before a wide smile split the babe's face. Little hands came free of the swaddling blanket and reached for Fíli.

"Kíli!" Fíli chirped, happiness and joy pouring from him as he reached out and took the little hands of his brother. "Kíli!"

_ Thorin could remember all of the trouble those two small dwarflings had gotten into in the years of their youth. Fíli had fallen down an old well and Kíli had run screaming into the house that his brother had been eaten by the ground. Kíli had tumbled into a river during the spring thaw and Fíli had surged in after him to save the little brother he loved above everything else. The pranks and the mischiefs that had followed in their footsteps. The giggles and large eyes that had always pleaded with every adult they had met to not be mad at them._

_ Above all else, he remembered that no matter how stern a family member, saying no was a truly hard thing to do._

"Fíli wants to learn and because of that, so too does Kíli," Dís said, snapping out her drying towel.

Thorin looked over at her, trying to gauge her mood. From what he could see, she was not impressed no matter how much she tried to hide it. "They are sons of the line of Durin, Dís," he said, his gaze swinging around to the pair of boys sleeping in front of the hearth. They had exhausted themselves earlier playing a game that made sense to only them. They had tried to bring him into it, but merely watching them had made him tired. "It is not surprising that they wish to learn."

"They don't want to learn because they are heirs of Durin. They want to learn because their beloved uncle is a warrior and there is nothing more in the world that they want than to be like their uncle."

That much Thorin knew to be true. He had already caught Fíli trying to lift one of his axes and the lecture he had received from it would hopefully keep him from trying it again anytime soon.

"You are the closest thing they have to a father now that…now," Dís said softly, her voice wavering.

Thorin knew that his sister grieved deeply for the loss of her husband and probably would for the rest of her days. The accident that had claimed him nearly three years ago was still fresh in her mind and would forever be. How could it not when every day her sons asked less and less about a father they were slowly forgetting. At ten and five, her sons had precious few memories of the male that had sired them. No matter how many stories Thorin told them, he and his sister knew that it would only be a matter of time before their father was a memory and nothing more.

"But I don't think that it would have made much of a difference," she continued after composing herself. "They love you like no other and Fíli followed you around endlessly before Kíli was even born. Both of them love and admire you and will ever strive to be like you."

"Where is your concern, sister?" Thorin asked for he knew that this could not be a simple matter for her. Dís knew the burdens he carried and never sought to increase them. She always kept any problems she had to herself, solving them herself as she had since she was a child. She was of the line of Durin and they solved their problems on their own.

She braced her hands on the stone counter before turning to face him. "They want to learn to fight, to kill," she said softly, "which is their right because we know they were both born to be warriors, but I fear that they do not want this for the proper reasons."

"And what reasons would those be?"

"They want to learn so that they can protect you, Thorin," Dís said, her voice gone low and hoarse. "I know, in my heart, that they would die to keep you safe."

The very thought chilled him to the core. He did not always show it, but his sister-sons were more important to him than nearly everything in Middle Earth. When they got hurt, his anger at their foolishness came from fear that they would lose one or both of them. He was harsh with them because they needed to know how important they were, not just to the dwarves of Erebor, but to Thorin and Dís. They were beacons of light and hope to their family and neither sibling wanted to see that light go out.

"Thorin, we have lost our grandfather, father and brother," she whispered. "I have lost my husband as well. I cannot stand the thought of losing them before their time as well."

Rising from his chair, he went to his sister and caught her arms. "Dís, look at me."

Her eyes lifted to his, the same clear blue of Durin's line that Thorin and Fíli both had. The same strength that ran through his veins was in hers as well for under the fear in her eyes, there was the strength and love that had held them together after all that had happened to them.

"I swear to you, I will not let that happen," he told her, keeping her gaze. "I swear to you that I will do all in my power to ensure that our line continues with your sons. They are my heirs and I will not see them lost. I ask only one thing of you in return."

"Ask it, brother," she murmured.

"Let me train them. If they are to stay alive, they will need to be trained properly. They need to learn how to fight."

Her gaze searched his own before her lashes fell to cover her eyes. "You will see that they are well trained?"

"Dís, they will be the finest dwarven warriors when I am done with them," he vowed.

Her head tipped back and he could see on her face that she didn't want to agree, her instincts as a mother were too deeply set in her. But when her eyes opened it was not a mother who looked at him. No, these eyes belonged to Dís, daughter of Thrain, princess of Erebor and jewel in the line of Durin. "Train them well, Thorin, son of Thrain," she said firmly. "I will never forgive you if you do not train them as well as our father trained you."

Thorin bowed his head to her. He would never forgive himself if he did not train them in every way that they could be trained.

Dís took a deep breath and pulled away from him. "You should wake them," she said, motioning at the boys. "If they sleep for much longer, we will never get them to bed tonight."

"Should I speak of it to them now or wait until the morrow?"

"Tell them now so that they have something to look forward to." Dís paused and looked over her shoulder at him. "And you can stop hiding the wooden sword you made for Fíli. He will be pleased to have it."

Thorin stopped walking over to the boys. "How did you…."

The smile she gave him made him realise how like their mother Dís truly was because he had been on the receiving end of that look many times. "I am a mother, Thorin," she said patiently. "If my sons cannot hide anything from me in my own home, what makes you think that you, dear brother, would ever be able to?"

_ The years of their training were hard and he was unforgiving with them. He knew that to go soft on them would make them think that battle wasn't as serious as it was. He would not see them hurt or worse because they were foolhardy enough to think that they were invincible. It was bad enough that they already believed themselves to be nearly indestructible. It was through no fault of their training or his own doing, but something that had grown unspoken between the two of them as they had grown older._

_ What did they have to fear when they were strong together? Their battle techniques supported one another, where one was weak the other was strong, but there was little weakness between the pair of them. They had trained themselves to always be aware of where the other one was. They covered each other seamlessly and fought as a unit, but even when they were separated they were still strong. But not always strong enough._

"It was foolish," Thorin said shortly, glowering at both of his nephews. "This is not a game to be played at."

Neither Fíli nor Kíli would meet his gaze. He knew that they were both uncomfortable with the scolding, that they both thought that they were too old for something like this and that they were both thankful that he had took them away from the rest of the company to do this.

"You risk not only yourselves but all of the others as well when you do something foolhardy or had you thought of that before you did it?" he demanded.

"No, Thorin," they said quietly, still not looking up.

"When I asked you to come with me, I did not expect to spend all of my time watching over you. How will we reclaim our home if you do not even survive the journey to it?"

They said nothing and he found that he had nothing more to say to them. What more could he say? If at eighty-two and seventy-seven they had not learned, they were not going to learn now.

"Tend your wounds," he said shortly, turning away from them. "You need to be fit and we cannot waste any more time."

"Yes, Thorin."

He heard them move away and he closed his eyes as they went. They were going to be the death of him. If he didn't die saving one of them, they were going to kill him with worry. Perhaps he shouldn't have asked them to come. Dís hadn't been pleased by the choice of her brother, but she had not spoken of it, not to him at least. She had always known that it would come to this, had known it since the moment both of her sons had gotten their feet under them and followed their uncle around like little ducklings. She hadn't asked anything of Thorin, but then she hadn't had to. She had gotten her promises from Thorin long ago and neither of them had forgotten.

But it had been in her eyes when he had left. She might not have spoken the words, but they were in her gaze. She had begged him silently to keep his promise and he had once again sworn that he would.

_'Dís,'_ he thought, _'how am I to protect them when they have no sense? How am I to hold them back when all they want to do is everything that I have trained them to do?'_

They had grown into young dwarven males on stories of their homeland, of how it was taken from their people. He had known that when he made a bid to reclaim Erebor that they would come with him. If he didn't bring them with him, they would have followed him and that would be more trouble than they were now.

He had never had children of his own, had never even considered it in the years before and after Erebor's fall. Before, he had had all the time in the world to think about it, to find a dwarf maid to take to wife. After, there had been no room for anything but survival and the hope that one day they would return to their home. And then Dís had continued to the line and the burden was no longer on his shoulders. But it still was and heavier than before because if anything happened to his sister-sons, the line could well and truly be broken.

Hearing steps behind him, he recognized them as Fíli's, but he didn't turn. "We are sorry, Thorin," he said quietly. "We didn't think that it would go that way."

They never did, but whether it was that they didn't think or that things never went the way they expected them to Thorin wasn't sure.

"Kíli is afraid you will send us home," Fíli continued as he came to stand beside Thorin.

"I am of half a mind to," he said seriously. "You both seem to think that this is some kind of game when it isn't."

Fíli was quiet for a long time and Thorin glanced at him. The moon was shining upon them and he could easily see the strong profile of his sister-son. Some in the Blue Mountains thought it was a shame that neither Fíli nor Kíli bore any resemblance to their father, but the line of Durin was strong and the proof of their lineage was on both of their faces. "I know," he said his voice quiet. "We both know how important all of this is, Uncle, and we know it isn't a game."

"Then why the recklessness?" he demanded.

"You know Kíli. He has always wanted to prove himself to you, to both of us. He has always been that way and it is unlikely that he is ever going to change. But he wouldn't be Kíli if he did."

That was true enough. The exuberance and life that Kíli did everything with was part of who he was. Even as a child it had been there and, as much as it was a headache for Thorin, he never wanted Kíli to lose it. It would mean that the world had finally gotten to him, had finally destroyed the one thing that they all thought could never be killed. "And you?" Thorin asked. "Why do participate in this recklessness?"

"I am your heir, but I am untested," he said, his voice low. "With each battle we face, I prove myself worthy of that title, but I'm not just your heir. I'm his brother. Before we started, you told me to look after him, but you didn't have to tell me that. I've been doing it his entire life and we both know we would have lost him long before now if I didn't."

Again, Fíli spoke the truth, but it changed nothing. "I won't send you home this time," Thorin said, looking back out into the night, "but I will if you do not cease all of this. You both have to remember that it is not only your lives that are at stake, but this company's and that of our people."

"Yes, Uncle."

Before he could leave, Thorin gripped his shoulder and waited for him to meet his gaze. "Fíli, both of you need to understand this," he said quietly. "I am proud of you. I've always been proud of both of you."

Surprise filled Fíli's expression and his gaze darted over Thorin's face. It made him sad to think that he praised his nephews so infrequently that when he did, it was met with surprise and concern. "Thank you, Uncle," Fíli finally said.

Squeezing, Thorin tilted his head at the camp. "Get some rest. We leave at first light. And tell your brother I'm not mad at him."

_ He could never stay mad at them. No matter what they had done and no matter how hard he tried, he would always forgive them. How could he stay mad when they were the last of his family? They had come with him to reclaim a home they had only ever heard stories of. He was not sure if they had come for the right reasons, but what other reasons were there?_

_ He remembered when they were small and had followed him everywhere. First it had been only Fíli, then Fíli had carried his brother since Kíli was too small to walk fast enough, and then finally both of them trailing behind him, their giggles ringing in his ears. The sounds of their voices had been constant and welcome over the years they had spent together and he could not imagine a day when he would not be able to hear them. He knew it would one day come to pass, but he held onto the hope that it would not come soon._

"Thorin!"

He wasn't sure which one had screamed his name but he knew that one of his sister-sons had seen the orc spear pierce his flesh before he could remove it. He had not wanted them to see that. He had not wanted them to see many things on this quest. Now those hopes were for not. Kíli was smiling less and less after all that had happened and the burden Thorin had always carried was weighing down Fíli's shoulders as well.

Swinging his sword again, Thorin blocked the attack of yet another orc and sent it to its death. They would not kill him this day, not when he had only just reclaimed what was rightfully his.

He heard the clamour of battle all around him, the shouts and cries of his kin loud in his ears. But loudest of all were the shouts of his sister-sons. Why had he allowed them to come? This was no place for them. This was no place for anyone. Even though he knew it would have been futile, he wished he had tried to make them stay in the Blue Mountains. Word could have been sent to them when Erebor was reclaimed and they could have safely sat upon the throne.

He blocked a blow too slowly and felt the blade bite into his shoulder. A low noise left him and he mustered the strength to strike out at the orc. Before his own blow landed, a thick arrow shaft pierced between its eyes. He took comfort in the sight because it meant that Kíli was still alive.

"Uncle!"

The shout brought his attention around to see that Fíli was now standing beside him, both swords coated in the black blood of orcs and the liquid staining his hair and face. He looked no worse for wear, but Thorin knew from experience that the rush of a battle made one forget when they were injured.

"We will not let you fall!" Fíli vowed. "We will defend you with our lives!"

His heart faltered. In his mind, he heard the voice of his sister. _"I know, in my heart, that they would die to keep you safe."_ "No," he said firmly. "The line of Durin must continue. If I fall-"

"We will fall with you!" Kíli shouted from behind him, loosing another arrow.

"No!" Thorin bellowed, blocking another strike and sinking his sword in deep. "You must survive! The line cannot die with us!"

Fíli looked at him for a brief second and Thorin saw it on his face. They had known. They had always known that this was to be their fate. And they had accepted it. To them there was no greater glory than protecting their uncle.

He thought of his sister then. She had known. She had known when they were nothing but little dwarflings who had had mock battles in the kitchen and rescued kittens from make believe wargs. She had always known. He had been the only one who had foolishly thought that he could change the path that they walked.

"It will not be so," Thorin breathed to himself. He would not let it be so!

The very thought of losing his sister-sons gave him new life and he renewed his battle fury. He continued to fight, hewing and hacking at orcs until the bodies were piled around him and his kin. He would not let them fall. They would rule in Erebor together as he had longed for.

He never saw the archer that loosed the first arrow to strike Kíli but he heard the pained cry resonate in his bones. Surprise filtered through the young dwarf's face before he seemed to push it aside and keep fighting, but Thorin saw it. He was slower.

"Kíli!" he shouted, pushing at orcs to try to get to him. If they stayed together, they would not fall.

But it wasn't meant to be. More arrows fell and more orcs surged toward them.

He heard the sounds of sword in flesh but the cries that were coming meant that those blades were digging and biting into his kin. "No!" he bellowed as he saw Kíli sink to his knees, his sword loosely grasped in his hand.

"Kíli!" Fíli screamed, desperately trying to get to his younger brother through the orcs.

Thorin saw the orc coming behind the elder brother too late and his warning died on his lips as a blade bit deep into Fíli's back. The war cry that left him was one of fury and pain and he launched an axe at the orc even as Fíli slid to the blood soaked earth.

More sounds around them, pushing the orcs back as their kin finally found them. Thorin couldn't care. All he could see were the two boys he had raised on their knees in the dirt, dying. Grabbing Fíli's arm, he hauled him upright, bracing him against him. "Do not die, son of Dís," he said when pain bright eyes looked at him. "We are not dying this day!"

Fíli did not respond but he managed to make his feet move as Thorin carried him to his brother. Kíli had sunk back on his heels and was trying to tug one of the arrows out of his chest. His dark eyes looked up as they came upon him and Thorin could see the hint of fear burning deep within them. "Uncle," he said weakly.

Thorin tried to ease both himself and Fíli beside Kíli, but it didn't work and they both wound up crashing down. Thorin caught Kíli as he wobbled and felt Fíli leaning heavily against his side.

"I am sorry," Kíli said, his voice raspy. "I failed you."

"No," Thorin forced out. "Kíli, you have never failed me."

His lips twitched slightly but it was a shadow of the smiles he used to give. "I'm sorry I couldn't do better."

"I couldn't have asked for more, Kíli. You have made me proud. You have always made me proud."

The pain in Kíli's expression eased and the smile that came this time was like the sun coming up. "Really?"

"Yes, Kíli," Thorin said, his voice thick. "I will always be proud of you."

The smile stayed in place as Kíli's eyes slid shut and he sagged against him. "Thank you, Uncle," he whispered.

"Kíli," Thorin said, shaking his shoulders but his heart knew. His youngest sister-son was gone.

A choked noise came from beside him and he looked to see Fíli staring at his brother. "Kíli," he whispered, tears running down his face. "He wasn't supposed to die first. I always knew he would, but…he wasn't supposed to die first."

"He wasn't supposed to die at all," Thorin said, cradling Kíli to him.

"Everyone dies, Uncle," Fíli said weakly. "At least we go with purpose."

Fear bit deep into Thorin's heart as he saw that the light in Fíli's eyes was dying as well. "No," he said, his voice breaking. "I will not lose both of you!"

Fíli gave him a pained smile. "We're one in the same, Uncle," he said tiredly, blood flecking his lips. "Where one goes, the other follows."

"Not in this, Fíli!"

"What am I supposed to do without him? It's been the pair of us for so long…. I can't…."

Mahal, no! Grasping the back of Fíli's head, he pulled him close and kissed his brow. "I have never been more proud of both of you," he said fiercely. "You are both true sons of Durin and will never be forgotten."

Fíli's smile was even weaker this time. "Thank you, Uncle," he said softly. "Thank you for not leaving us behind."

The cry that left Thorin as the life left his elder sister-son was full of rage and pain. This wasn't supposed to happen to them! The mountain was to be reclaimed, but not at the cost of his family!

He had no idea how long he stayed on the ground, the battle forgotten around him. What did the mountain matter when he had no family to share it with? His sister-sons were gone. Because of his quest to reclaim a home they had never known.

Darkness crept up on him and as it washed away the sounds around him, he almost prayed that it was death. He would not leave his precious nephews to face death on their own. He had always been there for them and he would not let them down this time.


End file.
